by Marina Adair
His eyes sparkled with interest. “I passed that yesterday. It’s the lingerie shop in town.”
“They also sell a variety of cute and quirky socks,” Liv pointed out primly. “Ones with dogs or frogs or owls on them. I bet they even have mountain-climber ones.”
He looked down at her socks, which were blue with dancing kitties on them, a gift from Paxton, and smiled. “Do they purr?”
Thankfully, a bright light filled the room, followed by the click of a camera. Mavis lowered her phone and grinned. “I bet a picture of your backside will land me the grand prize.”
“What’s the grand prize?” he asked, but Mavis was walking back into her office, her fingers working the keyboard as fast as her legs were pumping.
“Trust me, you don’t want to know. By the way, I’m Olivia Preston.” Liv stuck out her hand. It was, after all, the neighborly thing to do. “But my friends call me Liv.”
She almost snorted out loud at how lame that sounded. Had it really been so long since she’d talked to a man that she’d forgotten how?
“It is nice to meet you, Liv. I’m Ford. Ford Jamison.” He took her hands in his, and there went that annoying zing again. This time she was certain he felt it too, because his shocked gaze met hers and held. So long she lost track of time.
He just stood there, holding her hand in his, silently staring at her as if waiting. For what, she couldn’t be sure. But for the first time in what felt like forever, she felt a lightness in her chest, in her feet, as if all she had to do was take a single step and she’d finally be moving forward.
“If you’re renting the old Keller cabin, then that makes you my neighbor,” she said. “I live right down the beach from you in the yellow-and-white one-story with the white dock off the back.”
If he was surprised by the news, he didn’t show it. In fact, he just released her hand and casually gestured toward the door. “Well, neighbor, how about you show me the home of the best bottomless drip in the Sierras?”
Was he asking her out on a date? God, just the word felt foreign and irresponsible and reckless—and so incredibly intoxicating she wanted to say yes. Almost said yes, but then, as if the universe was reminding her that one had to learn how to swim before diving into the deep end of the lake, her phone pinged.
“Excuse me.” She fished her cell from her back pocket and read the screen. It was a text from her mother-in-law.
Pax is holding his privates. I asked if he has to use the little boys’ room. His answer was silence . . .
That Carolyn believed his silence was Liv’s fault was hidden between the three dots.
Paxton suffered from select mutism, a form of social anxiety that affected a child’s ability to communicate when expectations become overwhelming. When Paxton felt secure and comfortable, he could outtalk an auctioneer. But the only person who saw that side of him was Liv. With a sigh that she felt all the way in her toes, Liv accepted that her time was up. Life was calling, and she needed to respond. “It’s my son. I have to go.”
“So do I,” he said in that same easygoing tone that made her legs wobble.
But his smile dimmed at her statement, and his eyes flashed something close to regret—or maybe it was relief. The poor guy had nearly asked the town’s only widowed single mom to coffee.
Either way, Liv admitted that even though it was summer and the sun was about to embark on a new cycle, the frost had only thawed enough for her to dip her toes in the lake.
CHAPTER 2
An hour later, Liv had dropped off a very tearful Paxton at camp, fielded three calls from the camp counselor saying Paxton was still standing at the edge of the park waiting for pickup, and pulled into Mercy General with twenty minutes to spare.
Paxton had taken a huge step in the right direction today, and now it was Liv’s turn.
And she was ready. She had to be ready. It had taken her a full year to accept that Sam was never coming home, which was step one in Finding Life after Death. Step two had been terrifying, experiencing the loss and grief, which was why she’d acted on that step right away. Moving back to Sam’s hometown to be around people who had known and loved him was as much for Paxton as it had been for Liv. Which got her to today.
Step three: adjusting to the environment without the deceased.
Liv pulled out her phone, pushed the bottom button, and said, “Siri, what is listed in ‘Olivia, Take the Wheel’ under step three?”
“All right. Here is what I found in your notes, Take the Wheel, for what is listed under step three,” the computer-generated voice, which she’d set to sound like 007, said. “Survivor must assume some of the responsibilities and social roles formerly fulfilled by your husband. Change a tire, empty the rain gutters, tie a tie, throw a curveball, master the grill, and bring home the bacon.”
Check. Check. Check. Check. Work in progress. And as soon as she had her meeting with the head of family medicine, check.
Even though it was summer, a crisp early breeze blew past, bringing with it the scent of fresh earth and rustling the pine trees. Liv looked up at the jagged Sierra Nevada, which towered high above the small town she’d only recently begun to think of as home, and guilt seared a hole in her chest.
If she could come to think of this treacherous terrain that took her husband’s life as beautiful, then why did the idea of moving on feel like such a betrayal? Sam had been gone for two years, and nothing she could say or do would change that.
At least, not now.
And Liv was focusing on the now, the future. She had to if she wanted to give Paxton the kind of childhood he deserved. And he deserved so much more than a mom who worked swing shifts.
Shoulders back, Liv grabbed her job application and updated résumé off the passenger seat and headed into the hospital. If there was anything the past had taught her, it was that nobody cared about her family’s future as much as she did.
It was a mantra that had seen her through some of the roughest patches, and a mantra she’d adopted long before Sam’s accident. So when she reached the office of her boss’s boss, unannounced, she gave a strong, confident knock.
“Olivia,” Nicole said, glancing up from her desk.
Dr. Nicole Brown looked like a preschool teacher with her brightly colored glasses and pigtail, but she ran her career like a sniper. Precise and purposeful—leaving no room for surprises or error. Which had earned her the respect of her peers and the position of head of family medicine at Mercy General.
She looked at the papers in Liv’s hands and lifted a brow. “Did we have an appointment?”
“No,” Liv said, channeling her inner Xena, Warrior Princess, and entering the office, because while Liv’s surprise appearance might not have been a smart choice, with the board picking the final team in a few weeks, it was the only option she’d had. “I had some time before my shift started, and I wanted to congratulate you on your new Mobile Medic project.”
A project Liv desperately wanted to be a part of. It would get her out of the ER and into a position with stable hours and potential for career growth. It was also a project that spoke to Liv’s heart.
Having a mother who’d passed from diabetes, Liv knew how important it was to get medical care to residents who had difficulty getting to the hospital, and that’s what Nicole’s Mobile Medic project was—a fleet of mobile clinics that would service the surrounding community.
“Thank you,” Nicole said skeptically.
“I also wanted to speak with you about applying for the open RN position,” Liv said.
“You know that I’m only considering senior staff for the position,” Nicole said.
“I know I’ve only been at Mercy General for eighteen months, but I’ve been a practicing RN for more than ten years.” Granted, eleven of those eighteen months she’d been working part-time, but she didn’t need to point that out. “That’s four years longer than Kevin, who is one of the board-approved options, so I wanted to come and deliver these to you personally.”
It wasn’t an official invitation for a meeting, but Liv knew that in order for her to take the wheel, so to speak, she first had to take a seat. Then lean in. So she did both. “They don’t call me the research queen for nothing.”
Nicole didn’t smile, just flipped through the pages of information, spending extra time on the referrals—of which Liv had collected several. She skimmed the last page and then set the papers down.
“Last week the board approved Mobile Medic on a trial basis, and they want me to finalize my team so we can be ready to go next month,” Nicole said. “However, they only funded one van so far.”
“Which means you’re only hiring one team,” Liv guessed, thinking that she hadn’t researched enough.
“You got it,” Nicole said. “And while I think you’d be an asset to any team, my job is proving this is an effective solution to the problem so that they will continue to fund this project. To do that, I need to pick the right team.” Nicole studied Liv for a long moment. “Do you know why Kevin is on the short list?”
Like Liv, Kevin Curtis was a registered nurse working the ER. Unlike Liv, he was Sequoia Lake royalty, his family going back five generations of Lake Sequoians, with the most recent generation being one of the largest donors to the hospital.
Not that Kevin relied on his connections—he was a great nurse. But for this project Liv was better. Sam wouldn’t have backed down because he lacked a few years of experience. He’d gotten ahead in his career by being the guy who showed up at the table and turned his weakness into a strength.
“Because he wasn’t afraid to apply even though he was a few years short on the required minimum?”
That earned Liv a smile. “There seems to be a lot of that going around.”
“I may not have the flexibility to work as many hours as some of the other applicants, but my patient-care rate is the best in my department.”
Nicole’s face softened. She was a working mom too, so she understood the struggles. “Your hours wouldn’t be a concern since the mobile clinic will be open in different locations around town from eight thirty until four thirty. No more on-call, but also no more overtime.”
There would also be no more swing shifts or split shifts. Kindergarteners qualified for after-school care, so she could pick Paxton up after work, and they could have dinner together every night. And the weekends would be family time.
God, to have the whole weekend with her kid would be amazing. Not to mention the money. Liv knew that this promotion also came with a nice pay bump—she’d heard Kevin talking about it. There was still some of Sam’s insurance money left over, but that was for Paxton’s college. Anything extra, she’d have to earn.
“If you took my collective experience into consideration, I would be the most experienced nurse applying,” Liv said confidently. “I’ve worked the ER, the OR, trauma, and family care. Which means I know how to follow directions as well as take the lead.”
Nicole glanced at Liv’s résumé again, then looked up over her glasses. “Working in the field is different than the hospital. We won’t have files at our fingertips and the database that we do with patients here.”
“I understand,” Liv said, a glimmer of hope flickering in her chest.
“That means it will be imperative that every team member can summarize their patient’s history in a matter of seconds. Knows who they are, what medical issues they’ve had in the past, and how to proceed.” The doctor gave a long, thought-provoked pause. “Kevin is in the Lions Club, belongs to the Sequoia Fishermen’s Association, and is in the local football hall of fame. He has that knowledge. I’m not sure you do.”
“Kevin was also prom king, but that doesn’t make him more qualified. And I just moved here from Sacramento two years ago,” she said, because Liv had learned just how many hats she could wear since becoming a single mom. But if the deciding factor came down to birthplace, that wasn’t something she could compete with.
“And in those two years you haven’t ventured very far outside of work and home,” Nicole said, and Liv wanted to point out that she didn’t have the time to get involved with the community, but she knew that would be a lie.
Liv had been selective in whom she opened herself up to, and it didn’t take a therapist to tell her why most of them hadn’t known Sam well. It was hard to find closure when surrounded by people who wanted to reopen the past. It was even harder when the past had so many different perspectives.
To the town, Sam was the hometown hero who went off to save lives as one of the top thoracic surgeons. To Liv, he’d been the love of her life who’d constantly chosen his career over their family. Well, Liv was choosing her family first, and that meant getting this promotion.
“I have a stellar memory, I’m a fast learner, and I work hard for my patients,” Liv assured her. “I might not know every detail of their history yet, but I will, if you give me a chance.”
“You don’t have to sell me on your qualifications,” Nicole said with a genuine smile, and that flicker of hope caught fire. “It’s clear that your patients love you, you have great instincts, and more importantly, you have a gift of putting people at ease. You seem to find common ground with every person you come across, and when we’re dealing with on-edge patients, you’re the kind of nurse I want in my corner, but—”
“Oh God.” Liv scooted to the edge of her seat. “There’s a but? That’s like offering up a box of cupcakes, then saying they’re sugar-free.”
“It’s not as dire as sugar-free cupcakes.” Nicole laughed. “And while I know that you like your cupcakes sugarcoated, the facts not so much.”
“I’d rather leave with everyone on the same page than be blindsided,” Liv said, speaking from experience.
“This project’s success is going to hinge on my team’s ability to reach out into the community, work with different local organizations and groups, get the citizens to feel comfortable coming to us,” Nicole said with an apology already in her voice. “My strength is with hospital administration and the board. They trust me and my judgments based on my reputation in medicine and what I did with the clinic in Boise. I need a nurse who has earned the same kind of confidence within the community.”
Nicole pulled out a file from her top drawer and displayed its contents on her desk. It was charts, graphs, expected patient profiles. “These are the kind of people the Mobile Medic will serve. Sure, many of the patients we’re hoping to reach don’t come to the hospital because they can’t, but a good chunk of them simply won’t.” She flipped the page to a chart that showed the statistics of different outreach programs in the past. “As you can see, most of these failed. The ones that didn’t had two things in common.” Nicole looked up. “A fresh, new approach to draw interest from the community. And the patients had a personal connection with one or more of the staff members. I need to make sure that people feel as if they’re visiting an old friend when they seek care with the mobile clinic.”
“I belong to Living for Love.”
“Living for Love is a bereavement group, which you joined because it allowed you to do outreach without leaving the safety of medicine,” Nicole said, and Liv swallowed down the growing uncertainty.
There hadn’t been a lot of room for opportunity in Liv’s career. It was hard to move up the nursing ranks when Sam was transferred every few years to study under a new surgeon or learn a new procedure, but Liv had adapted. Finally, this was her big opportunity, her time, but in order to own it she had to move right past step three and on to step four. And that was the step she had been trying to ignore.
Taking the emotional energy spent on the one who had died and reinvesting it in another relationship or relationships terrified her. There were still times when she felt the loss so deeply it was hard to breathe. Then there were other times when she had to pull out Sam’s aftershave to remember what he smelled like.
The first was necessary to find peace. The second felt as if she were being disloyal.
“So you want someone who has deep ties to the community?” she asked.
Nicole gave Liv’s packet one last glance, then picked it up and held it out to her. “That is the only thing missing on your résumé that would make you my top choice.”
Liv looked at the résumé. To most, it would be a series of hire and end dates with a collection of skills and hundred-dollar words. To Liv, she knew that between all the recent employers and references was a complicated story of love, sacrifice, frustration, and loss. But it was the blank part on the last page that had her straightening her shoulders. Because that was the part of the story she had yet to write.
And it was up to her how it would play out.
“I see your concern,” Liv said, taking back her application. “What you need, then, is for me to bring this back to you with more extracurricular activities and community connections. When do you need that by?”
Nicole lifted an impressed brow. “I need to bring my final decision to the board the first week of August, and I’d like a week or so to weigh my options.”
“It will be on your desk by the end of next week.”
She would make sure of it.
Commit today, forget tomorrow.
It was the one rule Ford Jamison swore by. A balancing act that had pulled him through some of the worst shit-shows of his life. First in the army, then as one of the top K-9 trackers for Washoe County Search and Rescue out of Reno. He was Washoe-SAR’s Hail Mary call, their great white hope, the one guy who could turn a worst-case scenario into a rescue. And he had—a dozen times over.